


Just an Act

by Disteerily, SNES_Trumpets



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Death (But Not Really), graphic depictions of injuries, implied panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24459016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disteerily/pseuds/Disteerily, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SNES_Trumpets/pseuds/SNES_Trumpets
Summary: Lupin can't keep up the genius act anymore. After a string of mistakes, he breaks down. Jigen comforts him, but his injury is getting worse.
Relationships: Jigen Daisuke & Arsène Lupin III, Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III
Comments: 8
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

The door slammed hard, causing the ashtray and beer cans on the coffee table to rattle. Jigen jumped to his feet at the startling noise, his hand shooting to his magnum. The sudden strain of the movement caused him to wince, gritting his teeth and clutching his side. 

“Relax, Jigen. It’s only me.”

“B-Boss,” Jigen said through clenched teeth. 

Black spots began to cloud his vision, so he eased himself back onto the settee, taking deep breaths. Lupin flopped down beside him, uncaring of the grunt of pain next to him, the corners of his mouth turned down into a deep frown. He looked even paler than he did yesterday and he had deep dark bags under his eyes. He eyed Jigen’s bandages and then pinched the bridge of his nose, eyebrows drawn together. 

“How’d it go, Boss?”

Lupin gave a long sigh. “I failed,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

“What?” Lupin was silent, his eyes closed, still pinching the bridge of his nose. “Boss?”  
“I said I failed,” he snapped. “I lost the painting. It’s gone, stolen from me by some kid.”  
“Oh.” Jigen swallowed. “Well… We can always steal another painting. It’s not like it’s the first time this has happened.” He noticed Lupin’s gaze on his bandages and tried to tug his shirt closed, letting out a silent hiss of pain at the motion.  
“I can’t do this anymore, Jigen,” he said.  
“...What’s that mean?”  
“This! This shit! Fuck, Jigen. I can’t keep up this act anymore, man. Everyone expects me to be so smart but I’m only fucking human.” 

Jigen was silent. He stood up, hand cradling his injured side, and walked over to the kitchen counter in the corner of the room. Lighting up a cigarette, he took a long drag.  
After an uncomfortable pause Lupin stormed up to him, anger flashing on his face. He was swaying a little, as though drunk.  
“Aren’t you going to say anything? Huh?!”  
“Look, Lupin. Have a smoke. It’ll calm your nerves,” he said, holding his box of Marlboro’s out to him. Lupin slapped the box out of his hand, where it bumped against the wall and clattered to the floor, the noise deafening in the small space. 

“Listen to me, Jigen.” He stood so close that Jigen could smell the alcohol on his breath. Tears welled up in his eyes as he spoke. “I can’t fucking do this anymore. I keep messing up.” He clung onto Jigen, face buried in his hair, his whole body wracked with sobs. Jigen stiffened, eyes wide. Slowly, he brought his arms up to embrace his partner.

“Arsene…” Jigen’s heart ached for his partner, furiously blinking away the tears forming in his eyes so he could stay strong for him. Lupin was knocking into his injury, sending a sharp pain through his lower abdomen, but Jigen ignored it. Lupin’s well-being was more important to him in this moment.  
“Just look at what I did,” he whimpered, pulling back from the embrace and staring at his bandaged torso. “You almost died because of me. I’m not cut out for this shit.” Jigen put two firm hands on Lupin’s shoulders, forcing their gazes to meet.

“That’s crazy talk, Arsene. It was my own fault I got stabbed; you had nothing to do with it. And, ‘not cut out for this shit’? What are you on about? You’re Arsene Lupin III.” His voice softened. “Please. Don’t beat yourself up over my injury. Don’t beat yourself up over your mistakes, either. Trust me, we all make ‘em. Me, well I can’t even count the number of times I’ve fucked up.” He pulled Lupin back into an embrace, softly rubbing circles into his back.

“You know, it’s kinda hard to imagine you fucking up,” Lupin said in a small voice, sniffing.  
“Tell me that’s a joke. You’ve seen me make the dumbest mistakes man, just let it all out,” Jigen murmured.  
“I… I just get stressed, y’know? I probably sound pathetic, but maintaining this cool genius act so you and Goemon will respect me is hard. It gets to me” He sniffled, “The Arsene name is this weight I have to carry but I don’t think I even can.” He let out a long shuddering sigh. “What would my dad say if he saw me like this, or my grandfather. They’d be so disappointed in me.” 

“Well, they ain’t gonna see you like this because they’re dead. You don’t need to maintain an act for me, or for Goemon. We aren’t going to lose any respect for you if you have moments of uncertainty- it happens to the best of us. Goemon might talk about his honor and how he’d never follow someone he doesn’t respect but, trust me, a few blips aren’t going to make him lose respect for you. The man would die for you.” Jigen paused and gazed into Lupin’s eyes. “Come on, let’s go sit back down,” he said, a seductive edge to his voice. He didn’t have the heart to tell Lupin that he was struggling to remain standing, his injury causing a searing pain.

Stifling a grunt, Jigen walked with an arm around Lupin back to the settee. He half collapsed into leather, sweat beading on his forehead. His breath hitched when he glanced down and saw blood seeping through the bandages. Shit. He pulled his shirt over the patch of red, looking to see if Lupin had spotted it. Fortunately, Lupin was fishing around in his jacket pocket for his Gitanes and a lighter. He hadn’t noticed. Jigen breathed a sigh of relief. Better get Goemon to fix me up later. 

“So you’re not going to ditch me?” Lupin asked, still teary-eyed.  
“And go back to killing people? Nope. I enjoy working with you.”  
“Even though I left you to get stabbed?”  
“You came back and hauled my sorry ass back here. As I said, stop beating yourself up over this. I’m fine.” Jigen tried to ignore the warm blood oozing down his torso and onto his thighs. Tried to ignore the waves of dizziness. It was becoming increasingly difficult to focus, so he did the only thing he could think of. He cupped Lupin’s face gently with a calloused hand, wiping away his tears with his thumb. “You’re perfect. You know that?” Before Lupin could respond, he leaned the rest of the way and pressed his lips against his partners in a soft, chaste kiss. 

Hot tears rolled down Jigen’s cheeks, the stinging pain and feelings of love overwhelming his senses. Lupin climbed haphazardly into his lovers lap, nibbling at his lip and looping his arms around his neck to pull him closer. Jigen’s hand gripped the back of Lupin’s head and the other resting on his hip, feeling Lupin’s soft hair between his fingers. He grunted at the weight on his wound, trying to disguise it with a moan as he slipped his tongue into the others mouth.

Lupin ground his hips down, whimpering at the much needed contact, swallowing Jigen’s soft noises of mistaken pleasure. Jigen tugged at his hair to get a breath, hips bucking up into Lupin to get more friction, hoping the pleasure would offset the pain. Panting hotly as they parted for breath Lupin ran his hand up Jigen’s thigh, pausing in alarm as he felt something wet and warm on his fingers. “...Jigen?”

Jigen snapped back to reality, all sense of pleasure gone in an instant. Reluctantly, slowly, he peeled his blood-soaked shirt from his body, feeling queasy as he caught sight of his bandages. They were sodden, stained a deep red. The blood had run down and drenched his pants, sticking them to his thighs. Hearing his heart pounding in his ears, he tried to push Lupin off of him with arms that had lost all strength, tried to open his mouth to speak, but it was too late. 

Lupin cautiously pulled open his shirt to get a better look at the damage, Jigen gasping in pain at the motion. His mouth hung open at the sight of his partner, the wound was red and inflamed infection creeping up and behind the coverings, the loose blood soaked bandage masking only part of the problem. Fresh tears formed in his eyes as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing.  
“Jigen, you’re bleeding!”  
“N-no shit, Sh-Sherlock,” he said between labored breaths. 

Lupin wiped his eyes with the cleanest part of his sleeve, taking a deep breath to compose himself. He helped Jigen lay down on the settee with a weak groan of protest from the other man. Shivering, despite the sweat that drenched his hair. Lupin placed a hand on Jigen’s forehead pushing his bangs and hair out of the way that started to stick to Jigen’s face, his brow furrowing as worry enveloped him. “You’re burning up, sit still.” 

Lupin darted over to the kitchen, where the first aid kit was kept. He tucked it under his arm and then filled a metal basin near the sink with cool water. Grabbing some towels, he bolted back to the settee and slammed the basin onto the coffee table with such force that some of the water overflowed onto the floor. He swept away the beer cans and ashtrays next to it with a loud clatter, making room for the first aid kit. 

Lupin wet one of the towels and placed it across Jigen’s forehead. He whimpered at the cool sensation on his face, watching through blurry vision as Lupin got out a pair of scissors from the kit and knelt at his side. He hissed in pain as Lupin cut away the shifted bandages as quickly as he could without hurting the other man. Darkness began to shroud his vision.  
“Bare with me, Jigen,” Lupin said. His voice sounded muffled, a million miles away.  
“I-”  
“Don’t talk.”  
Lupin fished out a needle and thread. Cursing a few times, he eventually threaded the needle, and bent over the wound. He cleaned away the blood as best he could. Each time he wiped away the blood, more seeped out. Jigen tried to lift his head to see the damage, but Lupin pushed a hand on his chest and shook his head. “Don’t move, either.” 

Agony. Jigen felt the sensation of tugging as Lupin pulled out the busted stitches, fresh blood trickling down his stomach and onto the leather sofa. Jigen’s face was screwed up in pain, hissing through clenched teeth. He gasped for breath when Lupin was done pulling them out, wishing he’d had the sense to down several shots of vodka before Lupin had started.  
“I’m sorry,” Lupin whispered, beginning to stitch up the wound. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”  
Jigen took deep breaths, trying to control the pain, his eyes tightly shut. “Stop… apologising,” he managed to whisper. “Not... your fault.” 

He grabbed a towel and mopped up the blood as best he could, his touch particularly gentle when wiping the freshly-stitched wound. Jigen’s entire body felt heavy with exhaustion. He stared up at the ceiling, the pain reaching a crescendo as Lupin continued to patch him up. Jigen gripped Lupin’s wrist, nails digging into his flesh, and he weakly tried to tear Lupin’s hands away from the wound. He couldn’t make out what Lupin was saying. Black, only black, it felt like he was floating. He couldn’t feel the pain anymore. He felt only a vague sensation of being jostled. Shaken, maybe? It was as though he was being dragged further and further away from consciousness, numbness enveloping his senses. 

Until finally, he felt nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

“Jigen?” Lupin shook him slightly, his heart pounding. “Jigen!” He shook him again, harder this time. The movement caused his arm to flop down limply from the settee. The colour was drained from Jigen’s face, but he looked strangely serene. Lupin grabbed the arm dangling from the sofa, desperately searching for a pulse. When he thought he felt nothing, he searched again. “No no no no no no no no this cannot be happening. THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING.” His heart dropped. He felt as though he would vomit, or pass out, or both. He wanted to scream until his throat was raw. But that wouldn’t help Jigen. That wouldn’t bring him back. And it was all his fault. 

Lupin gently placed himself on the floor in front of the couch, bringing his knees up to his chest and hugging his legs, struggling to take in a full breath. Tears streamed down his face and his mouth was pressed into a thin line. He held up his two trembling hands; Jigen’s blood coated his fingers. The metallic smell of it made him feel sick. Breathing uneven, he stood up and walked on unsteady legs to the kitchen sink, running ice cold water over his hands, watching the blood mingle with it and wash down the drain. He leaned against the kitchen counter. His legs were threatening to give out. He stared at his hands again - they were clean but still trembling, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. The blood would always be on his hands, no matter how much he scrubbed.

Next came anger. It bubbled up through his chest. He clenched his fists and ground his teeth. If only he hadn't been so overconfident! If only he hadn’t told Jigen no one could possibly show up at the museum at the same time they had, after the exact painting they were after. The anger at himself quickly washed away, replaced by guilt again. He wanted to cry, but no more tears would come. 

Taking another deep breath, he spotted Jigen’s Marlboro Reds on the kitchen counter and reached over to examine the battered box. Only one left. He stuck it between his lips and lit it, breathing deep. It calmed him a little. Exhaling smoke, he gazed over to where Jigen lay, staring at him despondently for several minutes in complete deafening silence. 

A groan and a shuffle. Jigen’s eyes eased open. A soft moan escaped his lips.   
Lupin’s jaw hung open in shock. Turning his head slightly, Jigen looked over to where he stood across the room.  
“W-what are you doing?” he asked, his voice weak. “Was… Was that m-my last one?” He tried to sit up, but slumped back down, making a strained noise from the dizziness. “Bastard.”   
Lupin snapped out of his initial shock. “Don’t try to move,” he said, making his way over to his partner. He laughed a little hysterically and fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. “I… I thought you died…”   
“N-nope. Not dead yet,” he said, his breaths ragged.   
“Are you okay?” Lupin asked. He felt the wet towel on Jigen’s forehead - it was completely warm, the fever still going strong. He dunked it back into the basin and wringed out the excess water and settled it back on Jigen’s forehead. Jigen’s facial features immediately relaxed.   
“’M dizzy,” he whimpered. “I feel sick.”   
“Shhhhhh.” Lupin knelt down beside his partner. He stroked Jigen’s hair, murmuring soothing words to him. “It’s okay. It’s all okay now,” he said, half reassuring himself, half trying to soothe Jigen.   
They remained like this for some time, Lupin murmuring and stroking Jigen’s hair, Jigen just letting it happen. Lupin wasn’t sure if Jigen would even allow him to do this in any other circumstance. Eventually, Jigen drifted off to sleep. Lupin sat back, sighing, his heart still heavy. He took the towel from Jigen’s forehead and wet it again, planting a soft kiss on Jigen’s forehead before placing it back. Then he nuzzled back into Jigen’s hair, draping an arm across his chest, careful to avoid knocking his freshly stitched wound. It wasn’t long before he too drifted off into a deep sleep, exhaustion kicking in after all his previous sleepless nights.

\---

Jigen eased open his eyes, the ceiling gradually coming into focus. He was immediately hit by a dull pain from his wound, but it was feeling a lot less sharp now. He felt a weight on his chest and frowned, lifting his head and seeing Lupin’s blue sleeved arm wrapped around him. Lupin’s face was nuzzled into his long, shaggy hair, warm breaths fluttering against his cheek. Smiling, he wrapped an arm around Lupin’s shoulders, careful not to pull his stitches. Lupin stirred, peeling his cheek off of the leather sofa. He rubbed his eyes. 

“You feeling better now?” Jigen asked.   
“I’m not the one who almost died,” Lupin said. “I’m fine.”   
“What I don’t get is you think I’m dead and instead of performing CPR you just go to the kitchen and smoke my last cigarette.” He laughed. “Pretty dumb, if you ask me.” Lupin flushed red.   
“I… I was freaking out, okay? It was hard to think straight.”  
“That’s because you ain’t.”   
“Like you’re one to talk,” Lupin countered. Jigen grinned.  
“Help me sit up,” Jigen said. “Get me out of this shirt.” 

Lupin eased him up into a sitting position, a strong arm wrapped around Jigen’s back. He spoke soft words of encouragement as he helped Jigen out of his shirt and bloody bandages. He threw them into a sodden heap on the floor and plucked out a fresh roll of bandages from the kit.   
“Hm, actually. Maybe we should get you cleaned up in the shower first,” Lupin said, placing the bandages back on the table.   
“Sure, but you’ll have to carry me.” Jigen gave Lupin a coy smile. 

It was an ordeal getting Jigen up from the couch without hurting him, but he managed just fine to get them both undressed and in the shower to clean off, kicking things on the floor out of the way in the process. He turned the water on luke warm and helped Jigen step into the tub, offering an arm to lean on. The silence comfortable between them, Lupin tenderly washed the blood and grime off of the other. Jigen relished the feel of Lupin’s fingers massaging shampoo into his hair. Lupin gently combed his fingers through the knots and tangles. Then he helped Jigen lean back under the water so the soapy water wouldn’t run over his wound. 

When both men were clean, Lupin helped Jigen out of the tub. He toweled Jigen down, being gentle when dabbing the area around the wound dry. With Lupin’s support, Jigen slowly made his way over to the bedroom and lay down on the soft mattress.   
“Gimme one of your cigarettes,” Jigen said. Lupin complied, pressing the box and a lighter into Jigen’s outstretched hand.   
“I need to put dressing on that,” Lupin said, nodding towards the stitches on Jigen’s abdomen. Jigen lit one of the Gitanes as Lupin left to fetch some dressing. He took a long pull, wrinkling his nose at the taste, but relieved to have the nicotine all the same. Lupin padded back into the room, armed with a first aid kit. Then he began to rebandage Jigen’s torso. 

“You’re right,” he said after a silence, still wrapping the dressing around Jigen’s torso.   
“Hm?” Jigen exhaled smoke.   
“I need to stop beating myself up.”   
“You do.” Jigen took another pull on his cigarette, the cherry glowing bright orange. The fruity scent of Fujiko’s shampoo was now replaced with the smell of cigarettes. “Look, man. Promise me you’ll talk to me if you ever feel that way again, will you? You can’t bottle up your feelings like that anymore.”   
Lupin tied off the end of the bandages. “Alright. I will.”   
“Promise?”   
“I promise,” Lupin said, meeting Jigen’s gaze. “Thanks for dealing with my shit all the time. I really appreciate you, Jigen.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kena you're amazing ilu UwU

“So that’s the painting, huh?” Jigen stood with his hands on his hips, back arched back a little so he could fully view the massive canvas. His signature bent cigarette stuck between his lips, smoke wafting through the room. “It’s pretty big. Think we can carry it with just the two of us?”  
“It’s not that heavy,” Lupin said, carefully removing the golden frame from the wall. He set it against the wall when it was unhooked and turned to Jigen. “You take that side.” He nodded to the right edge of the painting.

The back of Jigen’s neck prickled. His hand shot to his magnum. “We’re not alone,” he whispered.  
Lupin rolled his eyes, giving an exasperated sigh. “Relax. We got all of the guards. You’re just imagining things. Come on, help me lift this thing.”  
Jigen hesitantly lowered his hand from his magnum and took a step towards the painting. He wavered. “Boss...,” he said, hand moving back to his gun.  
“Jigen-chan,” Lupin purred. “You’re just being paranoid. I assure you we got everyone. They’re unconscious and tied up. We’re safe.”

“You’re right,” Jigen said, lowering his hand from his gun again. “Old habits die hard, I guess.” He grabbed the other side of the painting and the two of them heaved, grunting with the effort. They managed to get about halfway across the room, Jigen’s arms straining under the weight of the canvas, when Jigen heard a rustling from behind him. He opened his mouth to tell Lupin, but closed it again. _I’m just paranoid. I’m just hearing things, is all._

They had to tilt the painting to get it through the large wooden doors. After the ordeal of fitting it through, they set it down against the wall. Lupin wiped the sweat from his forehead. Jigen lit another cigarette, holding out the box for Lupin to take one.  
“I thought you said it wasn’t heavy,” Jigen said, exhaling smoke.  
“Well, I had to get you to help somehow,” Lupin said, flicking his lighter open and holding the flame up to his own cigarette.

Shuffling footsteps. The back of Jigen’s neck prickled again.  
“WATCH OUT!” Lupin yelled, making a start towards him, Walther in hand.  
Jigen whipped around, but he was too slow. A flash of metal whipped through the air. He yelped, trying to twist his body out of the way, but the knife had already been plunged into his right side.  
His eyes wide, the pain erupting and sending him stumbling back. The woman gave him a cruel grin and pulled out the knife attached to a long chain, it reeled back through the air with a squelch, blood splattering on the tiled ground.

He gripped his wound, blood trickling over his fingers. Reaching for his magnum, fingers slippery with blood and tried to aim with shaking hands. He missed the first time. The second time the bullet tore through the woman’s shoulder. She let out a scream. Then she ran, footsteps thundering down the hallway. Jigen stumbled, blood pouring out from his wound. He gripped it, trying to hold his insides in, black spots shrouding his vision.

He heard Lupin’s muffled yells, saw him chasing after the woman, firing shot after shot but too panicked to properly aim, bullets ricocheting. He wanted to shout at Lupin to stop, come back and help him. He hacked up a mouthful of blood. Fell hard on his knees. His gun clattered against the floor, followed by the sound of his body slumping against the tiles.

***

Lungs burning, Lupin’s run trailed off into a jog. He bent over, gasping for breath. The woman had managed to escape, trailing blood behind her as she ran. Blood. Oh, shit. Jigen. Lupin shoved his gun back into his holster, turned back the way he came, and sprinted. His heart pounded so hard he thought it might explode.

“Oh, god…” He rushed to Jigen’s side. He was lying on his front when he found him, head turned to the side, blood dripping down his chin, causing his beard hair to become matted. His magnum, discarded on the ground nearby. His signature fedora displaced from his head.

“O-Oi, Jigen,” Lupin turned him over onto his back, tore open his shirt. He could barely see the wound for all of the blood, but he took off his jacket and pressed it against Jigen’s right side, the blood seeping into the blue fabric. He kept the jacket pressed down with one hand and fetched the small medical kit he always kept in his pocket for emergencies. His lips were pressed into a tight line, brows knitted in concentration as he worked, hurriedly stitching up Jigen’s stab wound. His heart felt like it was pounding out of his throat. His fingers sticky with Jigen’s blood, the coppery smell making him feel nauseous.

Jigen was ghostly pale. Lupin carefully lifted the man, slinging his limp body over one shoulder. He glanced back at the painting. Then he sighed, picking up Jigen’s magnum and putting it back into Jigen’s holster. He collected Jigen’s fedora and put it on his own head, tilting it down to obscure his teary eyes. He walked briskly towards the exit of the museum, Jigen’s arms swinging with each step he took.

Outside, the night was lit by a flashing of red and blue, Zenigata screaming into a microphone, cop cars surrounding the entire museum. Lupin shielded his eyes, squinting into the bright lights. Zenigata stood with one foot on the hood of his car, armed with a pair of handcuffs. Lupin could barely hear him screaming into the microphone, all he could hear is white noise. He ran, legs threatening to buckle under Jigen’s weight, but he kept going. Tears streamed down his eyes. He had to hold Jigen’s hat firm on his head as he sprinted, the night air frigid, gasping for breath.

Weaving in and out of the city streets, bumping into strangers as he sprinted. Some shouted for him to stop running, some tried to ask if he was okay or if he needed help, some screaming profanities as he knocked into them. Their voices sounded a million miles away. He eventually slowed, his legs felt like lead. His legs buckled and he dropped to his knees, scraping them on the pavement. A man approached, holding out his hand. His face was kindly, a smile on his lips. His eyes were laced with concern.

“Here, let me help you up,” he said. Lupin recoiled, staring wide eyed from under the brim of Jigen’s hat, his cheeks damp with tears.  
“I…” He started, his voice hoarse. “I-I’m okay.” He stood up, his knees straining.  
“What’s wrong with your buddy there? Did he drink too much?” The man asked, his voice warm.  
“Y-Yeah,” Lupin said. The blood wasn’t noticeable in the darkness of the night. “S-Sorry,” he said, stepping around the man, beginning to jog towards the base. The man called after him, but he didn’t stop. If the man spotted the blood and called an ambulance Jigen would be taken into police custody. That couldn’t happen.

After a full twenty minutes of jogging, Lupin finally reached their base - a run down house with a broken, boarded up window and an overgrown yard. He fumbled around for the key in his pocket. Opened the graffitied door, the smell of cigarettes and whiskey inside strong. Kicking the door shut behind him, he stumbled into the room and laid the unconscious Jigen down carefully on the beat-up leather sofa. He didn’t stir. Lupin collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. Jigen’s hat fell from his head, drifting to the ground near the coffee table. Lupin began to sob, his whole body shaking, hands smearing blood onto the carpet.

“It’s all my fault,” he whimpered between sobs. “I should’ve listened to you…”

***

“Are you sure about this, Boss?” Jigen’s voice was weak, hoarse. The bandages around his torso were bloodsoaked. Lupin downed the rest of his glass of wine, swaying side to side, his cheeks flushed a bright red.

“Have to… Have to get that painting,” Lupin slurred, brows knitted in determination.  
“You can’t carry it on your own…” Jigen took a deep breath, wincing at the pain in his side, his eyes squeezed shut.

“You can’t come with me, if… If that’s what you’re implying.” Lupin clumsily lit Jigen a cigarette, shoving it between his lips. Jigen grunted his thanks.  
“At least wait until I’m better,” Jigen said. He exhaled smoke.  
“I can’t,” Lupin said. “I waited long enough.” He picked up a hip flask that had been discarded on the floor and grabbed a bottle of vodka, pouring the alcohol into the flask, liquid dribbling down the side of the flask and over his hands.

Impatient bastard, Jigen thought. But he did feel a stab of guilt. He’d been comatose for at least a couple days - that had wasted a lot of Lupin’s time. The woman he shot would be planning her next move for the painting soon.

“You think you’ll be okay on - hic - your own?” Lupin asked, sliding the flask into his jacket pocket.  
“I’m not a fucking kid. I’ll be fine,” Jigen retorted.  
“Good, because I’m leaving,” Lupin snapped, grabbing his Walther from the table and storming out of the house. He slammed the door hard behind him, causing a strong gust of wind to blow a couple of empty beer cans from the table. Jigen groaned. He stubbed his cigarette out on the ashtray on the coffee table. Lupin had placed it within arm’s reach for him, so he had no trouble reaching as long as he was careful not to pull his stitches.

“What a fucking child,” he muttered, closing his eyes to get some sleep. “I don’t care if he gets shot out there.”


	4. Chapter 4

Lupin sat at the kitchen counter, empty shot glasses strewn haphazardly across its surface. Jigen was resting in bed upstairs, sleeping off his injury. The busted stitches had wiped him out so he was still asleep when Lupin awoke almost a full sixteen hours later.

Lupin had his head in his hands, staring absentmindedly at a small puddle of spilled vodka on the counter. Jigen had told him not to beat himself up, but he couldn’t help it. Not only had he allowed his partner to get stabbed, he’d also run off to chase the woman instead of immediately helping him. And then he’d left him to fester at home while he went out drunk to go after that useless painting. 

He felt tears stinging his eyes but blinked them away furiously. If only it had been him, and not Jigen. If only he could swap their places… 

He swallowed down these feelings, placed them under lock and key. He couldn't let Jigen see him like this again. He swept the shot glasses into the bin and shoved some other trash on top so the glasses were no longer visible. Sighing, he stood up, swaying a little. He brewed some coffee and poured two steaming mugs, the smell perking him up. 

He took the coffee up to Jigen, as well as a carton of Marlboro’s Reds that he had brought while Jigen was asleep. 

“Jigen-chan,” he purred as he opened the door to the bedroom. Then he froze. That was what he had said on that night…

Jigen cracked open an eye. “Hmm?” 

Lupin forced a grin. “Here,” he said, holding up the cigarettes and the coffee. Jigen winced as he sat up, taking the steaming mug of black coffee from his hand. “How are you feeling today?”

Jigen took a sip from his coffee, stifling a yawn. His hair was disheveled from sleep. Lupin lit one of the Marlboro’s and stuck it in Jigen’s mouth, climbing into the bed next to him.

“What’s up with this?” Jigen said, removing the cigarette from his mouth and waving it around, ash flying onto the sheets. “This ain’t like you.” 

“Ah, y’know. Figured I’d buy you a new pack since I used up the last of yours,” Lupin said, a smile on his face. It didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Tch. Since when do you ever make me coffee in the morning?”

“Can’t a man do something nice for his partner every once in a while?” Lupin purred. But there was an edge of uncertainty to his voice that he hoped Jigen hadn’t noticed.

“I dunno man, it just feels a little… Y’know. You’re not still feeling guilty, are you?” 

“Of course not. You said it yourself: I shouldn’t keep beating myself up.” 

“I also said ya should talk to me instead of bottling stuff up,” Jigen growled. His hat was lowered over his eyes but Lupin could feel his piercing glare regardless. 

“I told you, Jigen, I would tell you if something was up. It’s just I’m feeling fine right now.” He tried to laugh, giving Jigen a pat on the shoulder. His heart was aching, a weight on his chest. He lay back on the bed, lighting himself a cigarette and pillowing his head in his hands. 

“Hm. Sure.” Jigen stubbed out his own cigarette and slurped his coffee. He examined the dark liquid, refusing to make eye contact with Lupin. 

“Heh heh. Don’t be like that, man. I’m telling you the truth.” He hoped that had sounded convincing.

“Stop with that shit, will you? We both know you’re lying. Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on. Or don’t you trust your partner?” Jigen gripped the bedsheets, white cloth poking out from his fists.

“You’re pissed at me, aren’t you?” 

“What the heck does it look like? Yeah, of course I’m pissed at you!” 

“You can leave if you want.” It wasn’t said passive aggressively. Lupin’s heart ached as he spoke. He twisted so he was sitting on the side of the bed, feet planted on the floor, elbows resting on his knees. A cigarette was burning down to a stub between his fingers. He barely felt the burn as the ash fell onto his skin. 

“What… What the hell are you talking about? Why would I want to leave?” 

Lupin was silent, his shoulders tense, tears pricking his eyes. He felt the bed shift as Jigen moved closer to him, felt his gaze burning into the back of his head. 

Jigen softened his voice, sighing. “I don’t wanna leave you,” he continued. “I just… I just hate how you’ve been acting lately. Putting on that fake nice act and shit. I hate how you don’t feel like you can talk to your own partner, either. Pisses me off.” 

“I feel like you hate me because of what happened in the museum,” Lupin admitted, the tears finally spilling over, slipping down his cheeks. Hours of pent up emotion finally being released. 

“No!” Jigen turned violently towards Lupin, hands balled into fists. “You-” The movement caused him to wince, bending over and clutching his side, gasping. “You… You have it wrong…” he said between gasps.

Lupin reached for his partner, but then wavered. “Everytime I see your bandages. The guilt destroys me, man. I should’ve listened to you, taken you more seriously, but I didn’t…”

“You know you couldn’t have known the crazy asshole would stab me.” He sighed. “Look, man. I want some fresh air and you need some time away from me to think. I’m going out for a smoke.” Jigen placed the mug down onto the bedside table and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He winced once again, sweat rolling down the side of his face. With a grunt, he managed to stand up, panting. 

“Jigen, here, let me just-” 

“No,” he said, hissing through his teeth. His knees almost buckled as he began stumbling towards the door, a little hunched over, his hand gripping his side. 

“Jigen, how are you gonna make it down those stairs?” Lupin stood, quickly catching up with his partner. He tried to wrap a supportive arm around him. “You’re gonna bust your stitches again!”

“Let me go, Lupin,” Jigen said. 

“I don’t want you to go.” Lupin wrapped his arms around Jigen, nuzzling his head into his hair. Jigen leaned back into his arms, allowing Lupin to support him entirely as he fished out another cigarette from the box. He stuck it between his lips, leaving it unlit. “I want you to stay. With me.”

After a pause, Jigen spoke, his voice a murmur. “Wanna steal the painting back from that kid when I feel better? Together, this time?”

“Yeah. I would love that.” 

“You gonna stop blaming yourself now?” 

“Yeah.” Lupin scooped his partner up into his arms, the slight heat of a fever still radiating from him. Lupin’s fingers brushed against the rough bandages wrapped around his torso and he held him close, knocking Jigen’s hat to the ground with his chin and planting soft kisses on the top of his head. Stepping back towards the bed, he lowered Jigen back down into it and held a lighter to his cigarette. “It’s gonna be tough, but no more putting myself down,” he said. 

“C’mere,” Jigen said, shifting over in the bed and patting the empty space beside him. When Lupin lowered himself down, he found himself being pulled into an embrace, Jigen kissing his forehead. Cigarette smoke clung to Jigen, a comforting smell. He breathed deeply, curling into Jigen’s warmth. After a while, Jigen pulled back, cupping Lupin’s face. “Now, you gotta promise me you’ll actually talk to me when you feel like this again. You gotta mean it for real this time.” 

Lupin grinned, this time the smile reaching his eyes. “You know it. I promise.” 

“Heh.” Jigen took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling plumes of smoke from his nose. “It’s good to have ya back, man.”


End file.
